Matters of Bureaucracy
by BladeAchilles
Summary: Hell was not quite what Beckett expected. Some faces may be familiar to the audiencei.e. it's somewhat of a crossover


Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except maybe Lester.

Hell, Inner Circle, Arrival Lounge:

Lord Cutler Beckett was not finding his journey into Hell to be quite what he expected. Not only had the ferryman insisted on running him through an extensive and exhausting body search and weapons check (his cane was allowed through but his sword confiscated) before boarding but now a hellish imp was beckoning for him to follow. So far there had been no fiery brimstone, no painful damnation, but instead several long queues and five different copies of Form 5B7 that had to filled out in triplicate before he could pass the Gates. Someone back home had seriously messed up.

As he followed the scabby imp, he mused on how the East India Trading Company might make use of the various torments he saw on his way. Certainly there were pirates out there who fully deserved the painful ministrations of the demonic dentist operating between the lava river and the pocket of bubbling acid. And while he was not sure what a "Dancing Queen on Loop" room was, the screams issuing forth from it assured him that it was entirely suitable for that blasted Sparrow. Beckett felt a pang as he remembered the circumstances surrounding his death and the destruction of the Endeavor. But before he could slip off into painful reminisces filled with futile frustration, he was brought up short by an unremarkable door proclaiming "Office of Lucifer, Lord of Flies, King of the Damned, Master of Lies, CEO of Hell. The unassuming demon that had accompanied him motioned for him to enter. Cutler steeled himself and opened the door, best sneer forward.

Satan was around six feet tall, covered in scaly red skin with two horns on the top of his head. This Beckett recognized-he had attended church every week. What he did not recognize was the odd clothing he was wearing, a simple black pants and jacket, white undershirt, and a very strange tie that was nothing more then a long narrow strip of cloth hanging 'round his neck. Satan looked up and put aside the sheaf of papers he had been holding. "Ah, good, yes come in. Lord Cutler Beckett was it? I've been expecting you. Ever since you were twelve, actually." The fallen angel got up from behind his desk and strode over to shake Beckett's hand, still talking. "Nasty bit of luck there with those pirate ships I heard. Terrible. Still, it got you into my hellish domain, eh? Now, if you'll just step over here to my desk, you can sign the forms and I'll introduce you to the boys." He held out a pen to Beckett, who was very much confused but determined not to show it.

"I beg your pardon, but what is this all about? What 'boys' am I to meet?"

"Oh, didn't Lester tell you? Oh that's right, I completely forgot that I cut out his tongue for spilling my coffee the other month. Funny how the mind goes, eh?" Lucifer sat on a corner of his desk and folded his hands before looking over to where Beckett was seated. "The thing is, I find myself a bit shorthanded lately, and seeing as you're already here I figured, what the heaven, I might as well offer you a job. What do you say?" Beckett blinked. Perhaps all of this was just a figment of his demented mind, and soon he'd wake up to an actual fiery demon with a pitchfork, his torture ready to begin. Lucifer seemed to be waiting for a reply, so he chose his words carefully.

"I had expected a bit more from the Lord of Hell. So far I have seen not a single soul tortured over brimstone, no rendered bodies of liars and not a screaming adulator to be found. What exactly is this job you are offering? Am I to usher in the souls of sinners and then give them a bath?" Perhaps it was a bit too imperious, but he'd had a rough day. Satan merely waved a dismissive hand instead of flying into a rage and disemboweling Beckett.

"Oh that. Nowadays we've got to keep up with the zoning codes and health restrictions-not mention sanitary requirements. But that's why I have you. I want you to join my Board of Directors-hopefully you all will be able to keep Hell running, well, hellishly awful and still stay within the boundaries of all this red tape." The former Lord of the E.I.C.T. pondered this for a moment then spoke.

"Am I to understand that Hell is a bureaucracy?" Satan laughed in a way that sent a chill down Beckett's spine.

"My dear boy, wherever did you think it came from?" And with that, Cutler was pulled along through a side door, into a large boardroom and his new unlife.

Hell, Inner Circle, Boardroom:

Beckett was seated second down the table from the head-despite the massive length of the table there was hardly anyone at it. On his right was an average looking man with a pleasant face and red hair, to his left was a pinched-face man with long white-blonde hair and a sneer that Beckett was sure he'd seen in the mirror before. Across the table was an older man with a shaved head and several tattoos, a dignified yet slightly disreputable seeming man with hair resembling an African lion's mane, and next to him the only woman present- she was tall with a frosty look about her and a spiky crown set in her tangled blonde hair. They had all been talking amongst themselves but stopped when Beckett and Lucifer entered the room.

Satan took his place at the head of the table and called the meeting to order. "I'd like you all to meet the newest addition to our number-his name is Lord Cutler Beckett and he was recently killed in a skirmish with some unsavory pirates. He brings with him a long history with the East India Trading Company, and I feel that he'll be a smashing replacement for Madame Defarge; best of luck to her and her new knitting store." The other directors appraised the newcomer with a series of uncomfortable looks, but Beckett merely responded with a tight-lipped smile. The tattooed man was the first to speak.

"He looks like a fag to me." Beckett's neighbor with the red hair tut-tutted.

"Now Vern, you know I don't hold with that sort of language." Vern shrugged this off. The lion-esque man leaned forward.

"Ahh, a fellow businessman. Welcome to Hell. Tell me, how are you at fencing?" Before Beckett could answer, the supercilious blonde addressed Lucifer.

"My lord, I really must protest. Another Muggle? Surely there was a more, ah, _suitable_ replacement to be found." he leaned back, caressing a snakehead cane. The woman also had a complaint to make about the new member."

"I am now the only woman here, Sir. And while the Empress Jadis is more then a match for any Son of Adam, I think that it most unfair. I had hoped that the Green Witch would be Defarge's successor." Luckily, Satan cut short any more arguing.

"Trust me, Lord Beckett will prove a valuable resource to Hell and that's the end of it. Now, moving on to the first topic of discussion in today's meeting, Wormwood informs me that my wayward son _still_ has yet to tap into his potential and destroy humanity like hoped. Sadly, he would rather frolic about his little English county with his scraggly friends then bring about Armageddon. I might be forced to get myself another son!" Here Satan paused and looked morosely at the table, clearly fishing for the sympathetic responses that followed.

"I have had trouble with my son as well, Sir. Always running about behind my back, trying to take over, running for office... and that's not to mention his suspect relationship with that intriguing young farm boy," assured the man who Satan referred to as Lionel (Beckett tried not to snort at his all too appropriate name). Vern also had a wayward son, and offered to help Lucifer out by staging an illicit drug overdose. Cutler leaned back and filed away all information that his fellow board members gave out about their prodigy, you never know when such a thing might come in handy. For instance, the pleasant man on his right was very proud of his daughter Faith- Beckett could already see that it was a very exploitable weakness.

"Thank you all for your concern, I do appreciate it." Lucifer continued on with the meeting, listing such issues as the unexpected parking problems for off-duty demons and the sudden influx of damned souls being ripped back to life due to various reasons (one of them appeared to involve some girl's virginity and a statue-Cutler could see that things around here were a far cry from the issues the E.I.T.C. had to deal with). As the Lord of Flies droned on, Beckett gave the appearance of listening, but was already judging his competition- Lucius, Vern, Jadis, Lionel and the Mayor-and making plans for alliances and enmities. For he would not be stuck Down Here forever, despite what certain pirates thought. And when he got back there would be Hell to pay...and their interest rates were killer.


End file.
